To Cling to Love and Life
by The Telepathic Hawk
Summary: With all of the unbelievable things they had lived through together, and with Molly, Mohinder’s death wasn’t supposed to be this…ordinary. Matt/Mohinder, M/M Slash


**Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes, nor do I make any profit off of the writing of this story.**

**Author's Note: Just a little something that wouldn't let me alone. Please, consider it a kind of AU about three quarters of the way through season two and forgive when it gets OOC. Thank you and if you should feel the need to flame, please remain civil. Happy reading, T.H.**

It wasn't supposed to happen like this. With all of the unbelievable things they had lived through together, and with Molly, Mohinder's death wasn't supposed to be this…ordinary. Matthew Parkman, Detective in the NYPD, mind reader, and supposed hero, pressed the over shirt he had bunched up firmly against the bullet wound in Mohinder's chest and felt, more with his heart than with his senses, that Mohinder's life was leaking out through his fingers.

"It's alright," Mohinder rasped, his eyes rolling back in his head, his whole body jerking every couple of seconds with pain, and his hand falling away from where he had set it to Matt's cheek, "It's alright. Just promise me you'll take care of Molly, no matter what."

"Stop it," Matt murmured, pushing harder on Mohinder's wound and wincing when he cried out, "Don't you dare do that. Don't you say it."

"Matthew," Mohinder's voice was all of the sudden low and gentle, no longer rasping, and his body went still. It scared Matt more than watching him jerk and hearing him yell, "Tell Molly I love her. Tell her I'll always be with her. And you, Matthew."

"Mohinder… no…"

"I love you. Always."

Matt watched as Mohinder's eyes unfocused to stare at nothing and felt, with the hand he had set on Mohinder's chest, the moment his heart stopped and he wondered just how they had come to this.

Molly had been spending the night with a friend. It was the first time they had allowed it, and they were both nervous, Matt had decided days earlier that he would keep his mind as open as he could in case something were to happen and Molly needed them, but they couldn't let her live in fear for the rest of her life. They couldn't live in fear for the rest of their lives either. Sylar was locked up at Primatech, as far as Noah Bennet had told them, and Molly needed to be allowed a little freedom. So, they had walked her to her friend's house, two blocks away, smiling, though they both wanted to cry, as she chattered happily. When they had arrived Sarah's mother Jennifer had invited them in for a drink while Molly and Sarah ran off to play.

"I just wanted to let you know that everything's going to be fine," Jen had assured with a gentle smile for them as she poured lemonade into glasses for them.

"Sorry?" Mohinder had asked, shocked that this woman they had met only once or twice at school functions seemed so in tune with their current, shared, mental state.

"Well, Sarah's told me that Molly told her you and Matt just recently adopted her. So, in a way, this is the first time you're trusting her care to someone else, right?"

"First sleep over," Matt had forced out around the lump in his throat, "Does it show?"

"Yeah," Jen had laughed, "But, only because I'm a parent, too. I totally broke down the first time Jeremy, my son, stayed at someone else's place. So, in order to make it as painless as possible, is there something I need to know? Is there anything I can say to assure you Molly's safe here with me and my husband?"

"You are an angel," Mohinder had said it so fervently that Jen had laughed. Matt hadn't even thought about the fact that Mohinder's hand had been resting comfortably on his knee all through this exchange. When they had put Molly in school it had been so much easier just to pretend that they were a couple than try to explain the actual situation and Molly liked the pretend, as she called it, so they allowed people to think whatever they wanted with a couple of hints to give them the impression Matt and Mohinder wanted. After a while, the little movements, the little touches, had become habit and neither of them even thought about them anymore.

"No, I'm just a mom, contrary to popular belief." Jen had assured them, "So, what should I know?"

"Molly sometimes has nightmares," Mohinder had instinctively looked to Matt for confirmation on what he was saying even though he knew he was right. Matt had nodded and set a hand to his shoulder over the back of the couch, indicating that he should continue, "They sometimes get violent. She screams and thrashes. But, after she's woken it doesn't take long for her to calm down and go back to sleep. Sometimes she asks for water first."

"No problem," Jen had smiled, "Sarah sometimes has night terrors, too."

A half hour of small talk about nothing later, and after meeting Jen's husband Nick, they'd left with distracted kisses from their girl and heavy hearts. They had begun walking back to their apartment slowly but, Mohinder had stopped after a moment and looked at Matt with such heartbreak in his eyes that Matt hadn't felt he had a choice but to pull the other man into his arms. Mohinder's fingers had curled into the fabric of his shirt and he'd buried his face in the juncture between Matt's shoulder and neck. Matt had chuckled both at the way Mohinder was clinging to him and the feel of warm breath on his neck.

"It's ridiculous, I know," Mohinder had breathed, "She's just spending the night."

"Hey," Matt had stroked his hair, "It's okay. I get it. She's our girl. It kind of feels like she doesn't need us, huh?"

"Yes. A little. Like I said, completely ridiculous."

"Maybe," Matt had loosened his hold on Mohinder just a little so that he could look in his eyes, "But, I'm feeling the same way. So, we're cool, okay?"

Mohinder had looked around, making sure they were the only ones in the immediate area, and brushed his lips against Matt's quickly. Their relationship, the physical part of it, the deeper than friends and co-parents part of it, was still new and they had both been surprised that Mohinder had even made such a small move. But, they had also both felt a little better and had released each other with small smiles to continue on their way down the street. Matt had surprised both of them once again by taking Mohinder's hand and holding it tight as they walked.

"We need milk," Mohinder had said quietly as they passed the little market they liked to frequent.

Matt had smiled and nodded and they had gone in for milk. Everything had been so ordinary. The market had been quiet. Sam behind the counter knew them and had waved to them as they walked in then went back to watching the little television set on the counter. They had grabbed the milk and a couple of other things and had just made their way back to the front of the store when the teenager, high on something Matt was sure by the way he was twitching and the tick in his eye, had come in and pointed the gun at Sam. And where had he gotten a gun like that? Matt had been shocked at the silencer, the obviously expensive custom grip. The gun hadn't come cheap. Hell, it had made Matt's police issue look like a play thing. The gun had been something a person normally only saw in the movies. The kid had to deal or something. Why did he need to resort to petty theft?

"Give me the money," His voice had been high and tight and he had giggled in such a way that Matt didn't have to read the kid's mind to know that he wouldn't be satisfied until he had killed someone. That was the only reason he was doing what he was doing. He had gotten it into his drug clouded mind that watching something or someone to die at his hand would be the best high he had ever experienced. It hadn't been anything new to Matt. He had seen it before. It had probably been in the back of the kid's mind all his life, but just then the drugs made him much braver and much more daring than he normally would have been.

Sam had been shaking. Mohinder and Matt hadn't moved, not wanting to startle the kid and get Sam hurt, but Matt had nodded when Sam looked over at him. Sam knew he was a police officer and Matt had heard his thoughts racing. It had occurred to Matt, after a stray thought about not wanting to die a virgin, that Sam was young, so unbearably young. He had willed Sam to hold it together for just a little longer. He'd wanted to reassure him that no one was going to think less of him because his hand were shaking and he had wet himself when the gun had been turned on him, but he'd settled for looking at him calmly, steadily, sending Sam strength. It took Sam a moment, but he had put all of the money in a bag and handed it over without a word.

"Okay, man," Matt had exerted his power over the kid, "You have the money. Turn around and leave."

Just as the kid had been about to obey the mental command in Matt's voice, another man Matt hadn't even seen in one of the aisles had tackled him. It was a brave thing to do, if stupid, but Matt had only been able to curse at the guy in his mind. After all, the guy hadn't known that he could order the kid out and the kid would obey. He hadn't known that his brave act would only put them all in more danger. The gun had gone off in their direction. Matt had thrown himself down on the floor. In the corner of his eye he had seen Mohinder do what he thought was the same.

"Go to sleep!" His mental shout and command had put the struggling kid right to sleep. He'd felt the surprise in their would-be savior's mind and had turned to look at Mohinder, to smile with relief that they had escaped unscathed.

But, relief had quickly turned to horror when he'd seen that Mohinder was on his back, looking up at the ceiling and nowhere else. The shock and pain on his face and in his eyes had made Matt's heart jump into his throat and he swept his eyes down to try to figure out what had happened. A dark red circle had begun to bloom on Mohinder's chest and Matt had been able to tell he had no control over his motor functions as his legs sometimes kicked violently, sometimes moved just a few inches slowly and his hands clenched and unclenched every few seconds. His body had probably been trying so hard to process enough endorphins to compensate for the pain that his synapses fired randomly. Every couple of seconds Mohinder's back had arched and lifted him off the floor. He'd been grunting from the back of his throat, little desperate sounds of pain.

It had only taken Matt a moment to process all of this, but somehow he'd remained frozen where he was. He had seen men shot before. He had been an officer in L.A. It was impossible not to see men shot. He'd lost a good friend on the force to a bullet. He'd taken four himself and lived to tell the tale, but he had never in his life expected to see his lover, his Mohinder, take a bullet. Mohinder was a scientist. There shouldn't have ever been a situation he was put in that endangered his life this way. If he was being fair, a back part of Matt's brain had rationalized, Mohinder was placed in danger every day simply because of the world he had found himself thrust into by his father's research. He never should have been in the danger he was in on an every day basis, but this? How could Matt make sense of a danger that had come when they were in the market just down the street from their apartment picking up milk when he had been right by Mohinder's side the whole time? He had failed. He felt the bile come into his throat at the idea that flashed across his mind. He had made a vow to himself when he had gotten out of the hospital that he would protect Mohinder and Molly with all he had for the rest of his life. And he had failed Mohinder.

"Matthew?" He'd been surprised to hear Mohinder's weak, pain-laced voice, but it had brought him back to reality and he'd made a sound of anger, disbelief, and grief that he had never known he could make as he lunged for Mohinder, pulling off his button down as he went. He'd shouted for someone to call an ambulance as he set one hand to Mohinder's chest just above the wound, trying to connect them in some way that wasn't painful. Mohinder needed to feel something other than pain and shock. With all of his heart, Matt had hoped that just this once Mohinder would be able to feel his love just as Mohinder's own love was constantly in Matt's mind. If there was any justice in the universe, he'd thought briefly, just this once he'd be able to project emotion, not just command.

"Mohinder," he'd murmured gently, trying to put his thoughts into words, even as Mohinder cried out when he pressed his shirt to the wound, "Mohinder, you're going to be fine. Not going to let you go."

Despite all of his brave words, he'd seen how bad it was. Mohinder had been bleeding out too fast. The shirt Matt had pushed to his chest was nearly soaked through in moments. _Unless an ambulance arrives soon_, he'd heard the whisper in the back of his mind, _there's no way he'll be able to hold on._ Someone had handed him a clean shirt to press to the wound and he had taken it without looking at who had given it to him. He'd acknowledged the low comment that an ambulance was on the way with a curt nod, but his eyes had only been for Mohinder. For a moment, their eyes had locked and Matt had tried to come up with something encouraging to say, but what could he say to Mohinder's pain, to the weakness Mohinder could feel spreading? It was as if Mohinder could read in his eyes just how bad things were because he had set a shaking hand to Matt's cheek and smiled. Then, he had told him to take care of Molly.

Matt tried unsuccessfully not to sob as he gathered Mohinder's limp body in his arms. "No," he murmured into Mohinder's hair, placing kisses to his still warm skin, "No, please don't leave me. Please come back, Mohinder."

He wasn't quite aware of what happened next. One moment he was holding Mohinder, sobbing, the next he was being pushed out of the way and gazing uselessly at Mohinder's still form as two paramedics began to work on him, trying to jumpstart his stalled heart. He was only vaguely aware of the fact that someone led him to the ambulance when they loaded Mohinder in. There was a steady beeping sound as they drove through the city and Matt realized it must mean that they'd gotten Mohinder back, at least temporarily. But, he didn't allow his heart to hope just yet. Mohinder flat lined again on the ride, and once again a paramedic brought him back. Matt hoped he answered correctly when the paramedic asked Mohinder's blood type. He couldn't be sure he'd said anything at all. The only thing he could concentrate on was the unusual way Mohinder's normally mobile face was so still. It just didn't make any sense. A kind nurse had led him to a waiting room when he had stopped just outside the doors the doctor's had told him he couldn't go through. She asked him if there was anyone he needed her to call and he had finally woken up. He walked outside slowly, not trusting his own legs. The first number was hard to find, because he couldn't quiet remember their names for a moment, but when the sweet, laughing voice answered he knew he had the right number.

"Hello?"

"Jen, it's Matt."

"Jeez, Matt. I expected you guys to last at least two hours before calling."

"No, it's not that, Jen. I…there was a robbery at the market. Mohinder was…Mohinder was hurt…pretty bad. I'm at the hospital."

"My god, Matt, is he going to be okay?"

"I…I don't know."

"Oh, God. Do you want us to bring Molly to you?"

"No. No, please keep her with you. Don't tell her, please, I don't want her to worry. I just wanted to let you know. Could you just…keep her until I call?"

"Of course, anything we can do for you. Nick and I will be praying."

"Thanks."

The second call had been easier and much more brief.

"I'm at Mercy. Mohinder's been shot."

"I'm on my way."

Matt had never really liked Peter all that much. Peter was too young, too naïve, too hell bent to get himself killed over little things that may or may not have really meant anything at all. And he had slept with Mohinder. Granted, it had only been the once and Mohinder had told Matt repeatedly that he and Peter had decided after their first and only sexual encounter that they would be best served as friends. Even now when Peter was around, Matt only got thoughts of friendship directed at the young man from Mohinder. But, it was a blow to Matt's ego if he was being completely honest, that Peter was so beautiful and Mohinder was so beautiful and why would Mohinder ever want to be with him when he could have someone like Peter? Despite the fact that Mohinder assured him again and again, and his thoughts only backed him up, that he wanted Matt and no one else, Matt was still jealous. Yes, Peter was definitely one of Mohinder's friends not one of "their friends", but Matt had never been more grateful to him than he was that night.

Peter stayed by his side without being intrusive. He brought coffee that neither of them drank, went and got sandwiches from the cafeteria that they both only had half a bite of, and encouraged Matt to at least get a candy bar in him without nagging. When Matt was wishing desperately for human contact to keep him grounded and from going crazy Peter set a hand, reassuring and solid, on his shoulder and didn't take it away until Matt was steady again. At one point in the night Matt had had an overwhelming desire to pray, but he hadn't been able to remember any of the words. Peter had begun to say them instead. Matt knew Peter wasn't Jewish, but the fact that he was willing to find the words somewhere in someone's head so that he could help Matt say them meant a lot to Matt. Maybe after all of this, Matt would have to give him more of a fair chance. Peter was a good guy and an even better friend. Matt knew Mohinder would appreciate him making more of an effort toward Peter as well. If Mohinder made it.

He groaned and buried his face in his hands as the sun came up. Shouldn't the doctors have known something by now? The tears of frustration and fear that he hadn't allowed himself to shed as of yet had begun to slip from his eyes quickly and he had tried to wipe them away with his arm. But, when he had pulled his arm back and saw the blood dried on it, Mohinder's blood, the tears just came faster and harder. Peter hugged him for the first time then. Matt went willingly into his arms and cried himself out quietly on Peter's shoulder. When he was done he just looked at Peter with appreciation and they both knew that no one had to say anything. It had felt completely natural to have Peter's hand on his shoulder when the doctor finally approached them, asking if they were there for Mohinder Suresh.

"Yeah," Matt wasn't able to force anything else out of his suddenly tight throat.

"How is he?" Peter managed.

Six hours later, after a quick run home for a shower and stopping to pick Molly up, Matt walked back into the hospital, his little girl in his arms, trying to ignore the sympathetic looks he was getting from the nurses. Molly had been so mad at him when he had finally told her what had happened. He wasn't sure she was even talking to him again yet, but she needed the comfort of his arms around her as they walked. It wasn't that he had made her stay with the Connor's longer, she explained icily in the cab, it was that he had told them not to tell her anything. Did he think she was stupid? She could tell something was wrong all night and she hadn't slept at all for worrying what it was and if he ever did that to her again she would hate him for the rest of her life. Then, she had started to cry and he had hugged her close. She was shaking as they approached the room and he couldn't blame her. He was shaking, too.

"Any change?" he asked Peter as he stepped into the room and looked over his still lover. Mohinder was in the bed, unconscious, tubes and wires everywhere. One to help him breathe, one for medication, one to keep him hydrated, a wire connected to the machine that told them he was still alive, one to monitor his brainwaves. He looked so small, so childlike, in the large bed. He was so pale, his beautiful skin ashy and gray. His normally lustrous hair looked dull and flat. Matt closed his eyes for a moment. He'd give anything if it meant Mohinder opened his eyes, squeezed Peter's hand holding his, made a noise, anything.

"None," Peter said quietly, "I think I'm gonna go home and catch a nap. I'll be back later."

"Thanks, Peter," Matt murmured as he passed, "Really."

"No problem."

"Daddy," Molly's voice was small and scared as he set her down, "Is Appa going to be okay?"

"I hope so, baby. The doctors are doing everything they can for him."

"Can he hear me?"

"Can't hurt to try."

Matt's heart broke as their girl climbed up on the bed next to Mohinder and laid with him without laying on him, aware that she could do more damage than good. She stroked his arm tenderly and spoke of how much she loved him, how much she and Matt needed him to get better. He cried when she began to cry, but let her be, knowing she needed this time with Mohinder. After a time she fell asleep, her little hand still on Mohinder's wrist.

"Wake up," Matt begged quietly as he kissed Mohinder's forehead, then sat heavily in the chair next to the bed. He took Mohinder's limp, but warm, hand in his own, "Molly and I need you so bad, Mohinder. God, she loves you. I do, too. But, if you need this time to rest you go on ahead. Molly and I will be right here when you wake up. We'll wait for you, Mohinder, for as long as it takes."

The only response, and his only comfort, was the steady beeping that reassured him that Mohinder was still with them. So, he slumped down in the uncomfortable chair, kept Mohinder's hand in his own, and fell asleep.

"Is he going to pull through, Doctor?" A nurse whispered quietly at the door.

"It doesn't look good," The doctor whispered back, "The bullet did a lot of internal damage. But, you never know, miracles have happened. And he has a lot to live for."

With that, the doctor closed the door and left the small family sleeping, a prayer for them on his lips.


End file.
